It's All Your Fault!
by TheMortition
Summary: A boy's best friend is the Boogeyman. The Boogeyman kind of likes to screw things up sometimes. Rated T for language.
1. Bogyphobia

Laying in the bed, I read a little bit into this big dictionary of phobias. The doctors told me to read up on the many different phobias that are known to the world. You'd be surprised at the weird stuff they come up with.

"Peladophobia, the fear of bald people." I laugh slightly at this. I know it's rude to laugh at such things but it' hard to believe anyone could fear the baldness of people.

"Triskadekaphobia," I try to pronouce unsuccessfully, "The fear of the number 13." That's understandable if you're superstisious. Then, the word I've dreaded since I came here shows up.

"Bogyphobia, the fear of the Boogeyman."

My name is Aubrey and I'm 16-years-old. Many immature teens would believe a long black haired, pale skinned, dark clothed boy like me would wind up in the place I am now. That is, I am in the comfy little room of a mental hospital. How I ever ended up here is due to a lot of bad luck. I will tell you my story like I've done many times. But, I am in no way insane because this _has_ happened to me.

Ever since I was small, I could sense this presence with me. It would always follow me around where ever I went and never left me. But, for some reason, I was never afraid. I thought of the presence as my guardian or secret friend. When I tried to tell my parents and friends about it, they'd tell me it was just my imagination.

When I got older, around 12 maybe, the presence revealed itself to me in my room. It was this creature that most would think was from some scary movie. It was really tall, had long, messy, black hair, greenish skin, cold black eyes, sharp teeth, long sharp nails, and wore a long trench coat.

Of course, I was kind of scared of the figure that appeared to me. Then again, it was dark and a storm was starting up, so anyone would be spooked. I wasn't frightened for long because I realized it was the thing that followed me around for years. After talking to it for a bit, I learned he was the Boogeyman. Oh, yes, the Boogeyman does exist and he was my "imaginary friend" for years.

Up until now, I've still been able to come in contact with the Boogeyman. You can say we're friends but I think it's a bit complicated to explain. I feel really close to him is what I'm trying to say. I'm not sure if he sees it that way, though.

Well, one day, I went to this party with one of my friends. It was one of those wild parties that delt with drugs, alcohol, and intense make out scenes that shouldn't be seen.

Somehow, I lost my friend in the crowd. I looked everywhere for him but I couldn't find him. I even looked in the places most would overlook. He wasn't anywhere to be found.

Even though I was afraid of walking in on someone in the rooms upstairs, I searched them. I came upon one room where a bunch of teens were crowded around a circle and looking excited. I thought it was some pass-the-bowl-of-pills game, but was wrong.

I was pulled into the room and was told to write a random number on this piece of paper. I asked why I had to do this and was told everyone was playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. I've never played this game before but heard stories about it. All you do is pick a number, get in the closet with a random person, and make out until the 7 minutes are up. It didn't seem right at all.

I didn't want to play but they practically begged me to join. They kept saying that no one else would play with them and they just needed one more person. Out of pure annoyance, I joined in and wrote down the number 13. I was prepared to tell whatever person I was paired up with that I wasn't going to do anything.

As the game started, we saw some strange things. Some people were really into the make out session. A few were already peeling their clothes off. Several showed that they were pretty turned on by the experience. Others ended up leaving the room after they'd finished.

Then, my number was called.

"Who's number 13?" Almost everyone looked at me. It was obvious because I loved the number 13. Hell, I celebrated every Friday the 13th that came around! This could've been influenced from hanging out with the Boogeyman a lot.

"I'm here," I said with a slight annoyance in my tone. The girl that ended up picking me was this emo poser at my school that thought cutting yourself on the wrists meant you were emo. Yeah, you know the types.

I got up and walked into the closet with the girl. It was dark, had no light whatsoever except from the bottom of the door. The host made sure to empty it because there were no coats, clothes, shoes, or anything else in the closet. It was dark and empty.

I tried to tell her I didn't want to play the game, but she persisted. In fact, she tried forcing herself on me. She was a desparate one, which made me asume was a whore, too.

After some struggling, she stopped moving. I'm not sure what happened to her but I noticed something wet was being dripped onto me. I didn't know what it was but I had an idea.

"You killed her, didn't you?" I asked quietly. A rough, clawed hand landed on mine. I could sense him in the closet the moment the girl and I entered it. What I didn't understand was why he killed her. I soon found out, though.

He put his hand on my face and carassed it. I was taken aback by this. He's never done this to me before. What he's also never done before was kiss me on the lips. This was truely shocking. I'm aware that he knows I'm gay but I didn't think he'd kiss me. I didn't think he'd have such feelings about me.

Even though this was strange and confusing, I kissed him back. My arms wrapped around his neck while his went around my pulled each other in so close there was bearly any space between us. He could feel my heart beating and I could feel his chest going up and down like mine.

But, this new found enjoyment was short lived. As soon as the door opened, the Boogeyman disappeared. This was kind of a bad thing because I was the only one in the closet with the dead body.

The host called the police and I was taken away to the station. I was really scared and knew that they'd never believe my story. But, a thought occured to me at that moment. They won't believe my story because it's crazy. So, if I tell them, I'll probably get by with insanity and they'll ship me off to an asylum.

I told them my whole story but added a few things. Just things like hearing or seeing the Boogeyman, being told to kill someone for months, and killing the girl to make the him silent.

Out of some luck, the police believed my story and had me sent to the very place I'm at right now. I just arrived a few days ago and had a talk with Dr. Ryan. It so happens that she does this group talk with some teens that have phobias. She pretty much believes I'm afraid of the Boogeyman, which is what she thinks led me to kill the girl.

She let me borrow one of her books that had a list of all the phobias known to the world. I guess she wanted me to research a little bit of it just to see if I knew any of the teens' phobias. She allowed me to join in that next week. I'm sure they'll all laugh at me because she thinks I'm afraid of the Boogeyman.

And as I was reading a little more into the book, the lights in my room went out. As that happened, I felt the presence of the Boogeyman again. I put the book away and asked, "So, do you care to explain why you did this?"


	2. Scriptophobia

The towering figure of the Boogeyman stood beside my bed, staring down at me. I realized he couldn't speak with words. He never talked to me as a child or when he showed himself to me. I don't think it's because he chooses not to speak, but he can't speak.

I looked through my dresser on the other side of my bed to find my notebook, a pen, and small flashlight. If he can write I hope it's in English because I don't know any other language besides French.

He started writing down in the notebook, knowing I wouldn't turn the flashlight on until he thrusted the book to me. I learned many times that if I shine light on him, he'll disappear for awhile. It's one of the disadvantages of having the Boogeyman as your friend. Or is he my boyfriend now?

He pushed the notebook back to me and I turn the flashlight on to read it. His writing was a little sloppy but still readable.

_I didn't like that girl all over you. I didn't like how she treated you as if you were hers. I killed her to get her away from you._

"Why couldn't you have scared her or something?" I asked, turnning the flashlight off for him to write his answer. He gave it back to me and I turned the flashlight on again.

_If I scared her, she'd scream and then everyone would know I exist._

"But no one would really believe her. You saw how those cops treated me didn't you?"

_Yes. I watched from the shadows as they interrogated you._

"Can I ask you about something?"

_Go ahead._

"Why did you... kiss me... in the closet?"

_I really like you, Aubrey. You're one of the first humans who's not afraid of me. Even if you know I can kill people you're still not afraid. I admire that a lot._

"So, you don't even care that I'm a boy?"

_I should be asking if you care that a monster kissed you._

"Well, I don't consider you a monster. You've been my friend since I was small."

_Either way, I'm a child's worst nightmare. So, I could really care less what your gender, race, sexuality, or anything else was._

"That's good. It's not always good having picky lovers."

_Lovers?_ My heart skipped a beat when I read that. I guess I had the wrong idea after all.

"I'm sorry, Boogeyman. I thought we were more than friends after that kiss in the closet." He took the notebook away from me and started writing in it. He gave it back to me and I was surprised at what he wrote.

_I didn't know what the relationship was between us either. But if that's what it's called, I guess we're lovers now._ I turned my flashlight off and jumped up to the tall figure above me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. He actually was much taller than me so I kind of dangled while holding onto him. He put his arms around my waist and held me up while kissing me back. It was probably the best kiss I'll ever have for as long as I live.

He laid me down on the bed and kissed me a little harder. I felt slightly uncomfortable with this kiss. I sort of knew that this would lead on to something more. I didn't want that right now.

I pushed away and could tell that he was confused. I grabbed my notebook and pen, gave them to him, and got out my tiny flashlight again.

"Boogeyman, I'm not ready for this."

_Why?_

"I'm just a teenager. I can't do this."

_I've seen and heard many teenagers do things like this._

"I'm not like them, though."

_I didn't think you would protest._

"I'm sorry to disappoint you..." It was a bit quiet until I thought of something.

"Hey, Boogeyman? Do you not know how to love?"

_No. Not really. I was only made to scare children and kill. So, I don't really understand or know how to love._

"I can teach you. I can help you with it little by little."

_You can? I thought you didn't know what love was._

"Well... I sort of have a clue of what it is. I've seen a bit of how it's done through movies and stuff."

_And sex is not love?_

"Not exactly. Love is an emotion. Sex, as well as kissing and hugging, is only a physical attraction."

_If that's so, than why do we kiss?_

"I guess kissing is a kind of reaction from feeling the strong attraction to someone."

_If you bearly know what love is like, how do you know all this?_

"I'm just guessing here." I heard a little grunt from him and his hand stroking my cheek. I guess he was laughing a bit from my answer. He went back to the notebook to write again.

_Whether you know much about love or you're just guessing, I'll trust you to helping me know about it._

"All right." I yawned and stretched, the tired feeling coming to me.

"I should be getting some sleep. I'll see you again, Boogeyman." I felt him kiss me again. It was long and very enjoying. I'm hoping I can teach him how to love. Even if he is a creature who basically lives off our fears.

I heard paper being ripped up for awhile. I guess he was getting rid of our evidence. It would be pretty bad if everyone knew of this conversation we had tonight. I'm going to do all I can to make sure that no one but me and small children know Boogeyman exists.


	3. Glossophobia

"All right everyone, we have a new member to our group. This is Aubrey."

"Hello Aubrey."

"Now, Aubrey, tell us why you're here." I felt uncomfortable sitting in this room with five people looking at me. I especially didn't want to tell them that Dr. Ryan thinks I'm afraid of the Boogeyman. But I guess I had no choice. I told them everything I told the cops and Dr. Ryan, prepared for someone to laugh at me.

"You're afraid of the Boogeyman?" a boy laughed. I glared at him as he laughed more.

"Actually, Dr. Ryan thinks I'm afraid of him but I'm not."

"Then what _are_ you afraid of?" the boy asked after he was done laughing.

"One of the most common fears ever. Aerophobia."

"What's aerophobia? We're not psychiatrists here."

"It's the fear of heights."

"How is this guy in here, Dr. Ryan? He doesn't have some crazy fear like us."

"Well, aerophobia may be a common fear but so is the fear of the dark. It's not that crazy but you were all put here because of these phobias."

"But why is _he_ here?" This guy obviously hates me for some reason.

"Well, Darren, Aubrey killed someone in a closet because he thought he saw the Boogeyman."

"You sure he should be in the same room with us?" a blonde girl asks. She seemed pretty alarmed.

"I'm sure he won't do anything. What probably caused his sudden impulse was the thought that the Boogeyman was in the closet with him and the girl."

"Was it dark?" asked another guy who twitched slightly at the word "dark."

"Well, they were playing a 7 Minutes in Heaven game, so I assume it was dark."

"Yes, it was dark," I explain.

"So, a little game of 7 Minutes in Heaven got you here?" the boy said laughing, "That's so gay!" I narrow my eyes at him as soon as he said "that's so gay." For some reason that phrase always got to me.

"Hey, it's not funny," the blond girl tried to tell him, "It freaked him out. It's not good to just laugh at other's pain." Darren stops laughing after a bit. Those two seemed kind of close.

"Maybe we should test these claims," Dr. Ryan suggested, "That is, if it bothers you, Aubrey."

"No. Not at all." _They'll most likely die in there anyways._

"All right. How about we try this Friday? I'll even bring Dr. Allen in to watch." I rolled my eyes as she went on about what a great idea this was.

"Shouldn't we introduce each other before this?" asked the same boy who wondered about the darkened closet.

"Ah, yes," Dr. Ryan answered, "We got so caught up in this conversation, I forgot to introduce everyone to Aubrey." The boy who suggested this stood up.

"My name is Mark."

"What's your fear?" I asked.

"The dark." The blonde haired girl stood up next. That's when I realized she was really skinny. I mean _really_ skinny!

"I'm Nicky. I've been diagnosed as anorexia." She sits down and another boy gets up. He was sitting quietly this whole time but seemed figity.

"My name's Paul and I'm a germaphobe." I'd assume something like this is pretty normal to lots of people. Then again, to wind up here with a fear like that, it must be serious. He sits down and the jerk gets up.

"My name is Darren. I can't commit to a relationship." _So that's why he's such an ass,_ I thought to myself, _He's a pussy!_ He sits down and glares at me while the last kid, a girl, stands up.

"I'm Alison. I love pain." I didn't notice it before but there were a few lines on her arms. I guess she was one of those real cutters people instantly confuse for emo posers. She sits down and Dr. Ryan goes back to talking about something. It was probably over something they did the other day. I couldn't understand what was going on so I thought about something else.

What was mainly on my mind was the teachings I gave the Boogeyman the past week. He's been doing quite fine. Sometimes he did get a little carried away with it and tried going further. Other times, he would stop in the middle of a kiss, not knowing if he was going too far or not.

Dispite all this, he was getting better at it. He's almost to the point where I don't even have to say what he should or shouldn't do.

We don't always spend our nights making out. We talk a lot about different things. I never find myself getting bored when I talk to the Boogeyman. He tends to talk about very interesting things even if he doesn't think they're that exciting.

"-right?" I snapped out of my day dream to stare at Dr. Ryan.

"Ummm, sorry? What was that?"

"You're having a good time adjusting to your life here, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm getting settled in just fine." I look over at Darren, who stares back in hate at me.

_Besides that douchebag, I think I'm really going to like it here..._


	4. Chronophobia

For these few days, I've done all right in the hospital. I finally wrote to my parents about the therapy group and how they're "helping" me. I always look forward to night time when all the lights are shut off and I could talk to the one I loved. I was prepared to teach him how to make out tonight, but it was Friday. The day Dr. Ryan, Dr. Allen, and the other kids test my claims of the closet game.

Sitting here and staring at the older psychiatrist was unbearable. It's like he knew about something that involved me. It wasn't a comfortable first gaze with him. His eyes pierced inside of me, threatening to make me say something secretive.

"So, you're afraid of the Boogeyman?" Dr. Allen asked.

"No. I thought he was in the closet watching me kill someone."

"Why would you say it was the Boogeyman? Is there any reason for that assumption?"

"Do you ever have the feeling you're being watched?"

"Maybe from time to time. That doesn't mean it's always the Boogeyman."

"I felt like haunting eyes were always watching me. There was an evil pressence in there with me as I killed her."

"Is that why you assumed it was the Boogeyman?"

"Yes. Even if you can't see him, he inflicts fear onto you just by being in the same room as you."

"It could be that you were just paranoid."

"I wasn't paranoid. I was sure there was someone in there with us." Making up this incredible story about what "could've happened" was kind of fun. I didn't realize how good I was at coming up with things on the spot. All I had to do was keep saying the same thing and not change anything about the story.

"If you're so sure there was someone in there, how come the police found no evidence that a third person was in there?"

"Because the Boogeyman isn't human. He doesn't have to leave evidence unless he wants to have everyone know his existance."

"You know we had a patient just like you? He believed the Boogeyman killed his parents."

"No. I didn't know that."

"I guess some people have neglected to inform you." His traveled all around the room at the kids and Dr. Ryan.

"So, where is he?" I asked, "Where's my other believer?"

"He recently left and has gotten over his fear. I believe his younger sister will be here this afternoon."

"Does she share a similar fear?"

"Yes. They both believe that the Boogey murdered their parents."

"Was the murderer ever found?"

"No. It remains a mystery to this day. But that's not the point. The point is, you killed a girl but you think the Boogeyman caused you to kill her."

"Yes. That is true."

"I think it's about time we do this experiment now." He got up and walked over to this door in the room. He opened it to reveal a small closet with a light switch on the outside of it.

"So, who knows how to play this game?" Dr. Allen asks. Nicky raises her hand and explains the rules except for one part. She said we were allowed to choose whoever we wanted to be in the closet with us. Well, some people go by different rules. I guess she just wanted to get closer to Darren the asshole.

"Okay, I want to go into the closet with Darren," she declared. She took him by the arm and went in the closet with him. The door was closed and the lights were turned off.

Dr. Allen kept his eyes on his watch, waiting for either the 7 minutes to end or screams to erupt from the closet. We were also waiting for something to happen. Of course, all that came from the closet were moans. Yeah, gross, I know.

The 7 minutes were up and Nicky and Darren came out with messy hair and wrinkled clothes. I shook my head after they passed by.

"Okay, who's next."

"I guess I'll go," Alison said standing up and going into the closet.

"Who do you pick to be in there with you?" Dr. Allen asked.

"Paul. He's less stressful to deal with." Paul got up but approached the closet cautiously. Looking through his perspective, I wouldn't blame him for acting like that. An average closet consists of dust, a few cobwebs, lint, and unfamiliar smells (Maybe, especially this one).

Paul went into the closet but stood up. It looks like he was going to be like that through the whole 7 minutes. I almost felt slightly bad for him. Sometimes, though, I've wanted to screw around with him about the germy world we live in. I've felt tempted to tell him that we have dust mites in our eyelashes that eat away at the dirt in our eyes or something like that. I also wanted to explain that bedbugs live in everyone's matress and help eat up the skin folicles that fall off of us onto the bed. But, I've resisted those temptations.

7 minutes passed and nothing happened. Not a sound came from the closet the entire time. They came out sort of casually and went back to their seats, waiting for the remaining to take their turns.

I got up and went into the closet. Mark remained in his seat.

"Mark, you're the only one left. You have to go in."

"I know but I'm not going in there. You know I'm afraid of the dark."

"I'll keep the light on for you."

"But he's a guy. That's just weird."

"I've seen stuff like this happen," I told him, "Nothing really happens. Unless their gay, they'll do something but I don't go that way." Okay, just to make this clear, no one yet knows I like guys. I didn't even tell my parents or anyone else back home about my sexuality.

"You promise you won't try anything on me?" Mark asks me.

"I promise. All we'll do is probably talk."

"Okay..." Mark slowly approaches the closet and sits down across from me. The light turned on and the door was shut. He started shaking a little from being inside this tiny space and probably thinking the light will turn off at any moment.

"So, there was another person here afraid of the Boogeyman?" I tried striking up a conversation with him.

"Yeah. His name was Henry. He was a really nice guy. Got along with everyone."

"How did he get over his fear?"

"It took awhile but I think Dr. Allen forced him to confront his fear. That's something I'm sure not a lot of us can do."

"What did Dr. Allen do to make his fear go away?"

"He forced him into this closet and kept him in there for awhile."

"And he got over it just like that?"

"Well, Henry was screaming in here for a long time before he-" Suddenly the lightbulb above us burst and we were caped in darkness. Mark started screaming uncontrolably and kicking at the walls and door, begging to be let out. Dr. Allen opened the door and set him free, but closed the door on me. I was left with the remaining several minutes to myself. Or so I assumed at first.

I familiar hand rubbed my shoulder and kissed the side of my head. I chuckled silently. I can only think that it was his doing to make the lightbulb burst so he can have me all to himself again. He is one jealous guy. Through the remaining time, we kissed a lot until I had to be taken out of the closet. I know we'll have much to talk about tonight.


	5. Necrophobia

For several weeks, things have been all right. That girl, Laura, is somewhat bothersome. I can tell by the way she talks that she knows the Boogeyman exists, too. She'll be a problem in the future. Boogeyman is also a bit bothered by her. He wants to get rid of her and everyone else in here. As great as this sounds, it makes me worried. If the police show up and find out everyone but me is dead, that'll raise a lot of suspicion. Maybe he has a better plan than I'm aware of.

I wait for the Boogeyman to show up but he doesn't appear. I was starting to wonder why he wasn't coming until I felt his pressence at my bedside.

"Where were you? I've been waiting for almost 15 minutes." He took my notebook and pen and began writing. He gave it back to me as I pulled out my flashlight to read his note.

_I was killing Mark in the basement._

"Why? Why did you do that?"

_I've decided I wanted everyone to die now._

"Will everyone die tonight?"

_No. I may finish the rest tomorrow night._

"Oh, okay." He's been talking to me about this for weeks. I've been waiting for when he actually started doing it. For the rest of the night, we talked about how he would kill them and he told me to stay in my room at all times. I shouldn't leave the room under any circumstances. I accepted his request and waited for the next day to come.

I stayed in my room all day. The doctors have asked that I come out and some took the keys and tried opening the door. I barracaded the door so that it would be impossible to open. I was doing everything in my power to stay in this room until the Boogeyman came to get me.

The hours passed by slowly but the doctors didn't give up. That was until I heard some screaming several yards away from my room. By the sound of it, it was a girl and she was in extreme terror. The girl ran to the doctors in front of my door and said something about Paul being dead. I think all of them ran off to his room and left me to my room.

I waited for the rest of the hysteria to continue. I didn't try to open my door to see what was going on. I took down most of the stuff I used to barracade my door but I didn't unlock it or come out. I just sat on my bed most of the night, getting ready for the Boogeyman to be done and show himself.

Suddenly, my door handle started shaking. I assumed it was one of the doctors trying to check in on me or one of the remaining kids still alive. Just when I thought the end of the useless shaking meant they gave up, I heard it unlocking. I dashed to the door to lock it again but I was too late. Although, staring down at me was someone I didn't expect.

There was someone dressed up as a monster and wore a similar trench coat as the Boogeyman's. Seeing this made me realize that this person was pretending to be the Boogeyman. I know for a fact it wasn't him because I couldn't sense him.

"Who are you?" I asked him. He didn't answer me. Instead, he pushed me towards the window, opened it up, and pushed me out. If I was on the second floor, I wouldn't worry so much. I'm on the third floor and it looked like a horrible fall.

He hung onto my shirt and left me dangling above the far ground below. I knew if I struggled, I'd slip out of his hands and fall to my death. If I kept still, though, he'd drop me. I tried turning myself around and grip the window sill but found this difficult. That wasn't the only bad thing about this situation. Before I could get a good grip on the sill, the stranger put a knife to my throat, and slit it deeply.

I coughed up a lot of blood and tried compressing my neck with my free hand. Unfortunately, my hand on the window sill was growing too weak from lack of blood coming out of my neck. When he saw this, he let go of my shirt and I fell to the ground. Before I could hit the ground and die, everything around my quickly went black. I had no recollection of what happened after that.

When I awoke, I was in the dark. This scared me because I thought someone had buried me alive. My eyes adjusted and I realized I was in some strange dark world. There were doors and little openings everywhere that led to who-knows-where. I look over to my right and saw the Boogeyman coming out of a door. I tried to speak but I couldn't utter a word. I touched my neck and realized there was some blood still down it, my neck still had the deep slit, and my cut up neck was sewn up.

_Did he do this?_ I thought to myself.

_"Yes, I did."_ I looked over at him in shock. He was staring back at me with a smirk.

_You can read my mind?_

_"Of course. That's how I know your fear."_

_Okay... Why didn't you save me?_

_"I did. I just didn't save you from dying."_

_Who was that guy that killed me?_

_"That was the boy who stayed there before you came. His name was Henry."_

_Why did he kill me and pretend to be the Boogeyman?_

_"Let's just say, I really damaged his mind and it caused him to do this."_

_All right..._ I looked around at the place we were at for awhile. I was confused about what it was and why we were here.

_"This is my world,"_ he told me, "_All the doors are closets and all these cracks are the bottoms of beds. There's a reason why I never talk."_

_Is it so that no one hears you or figures out you exist?_

_"Yes. That is correct."_

_Why would you go through all this trouble? Keeping me here, letting me be something like you, and letting me know all about this. Why would you go through all this for me?_

_"Haven't you figured it out yet?"_

_No. What is it?_ He puts his hands on either side of my shoulders and kisses me deeply. Even after all that practice, he's able to kiss and put emotion into it. I didn't think he could make this far. The kiss was so passionate it was almost unbelievable. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes.

_"I love you, Aubrey. That's why."_ I smiled up at him. To think, something like this comes out of the maters of phobias.


End file.
